Sit
Listen, partake
it is you, only you
It was the swinging
shoes in the tree,
along withhold looks
of lost
properly painted by
hope burgeoning
While you might see
the streets as hopeless
Painted smiles spoke
from ghosts of better days
I am not within defeats reach
and the truth, that I am
outweighs decline.
So I carried that
on my back
Like peanut butter and jelly
and Everett's ever youthful
smile
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